familiar recipes

Home Cookin’

Ahhh...a pinch of this and 2 teaspoons of that meshed with sifted this and zested that

Two minds, two hearts, whisked into these blended treasures

Of truth, comfort and freedom, 

beyond even the uncommon standards,

for this cannot be merely measured

or ever even imagined

#setmefreewhydontyoubabe

Careless whispers

Ask of me anything you want
take whatever it is that you think you need,
always knowing that I will surely give
for Love has made a slave of me

The memory of writing the long version of this excerpt of a poem is among the sweetest of my heart's affections. Maybe I'm crazy but it seems that the people to whom I've selflessly given love in spite of my knowing that I wouldn't be getting it back in a tangible form, are the ones I remember the most fondly.

A mere 10 years to re-alize myself. It's like ascending to the stratosphere with there is no antonym for clarity. I think I might even hear some angels singing. Or perhaps I'm experiencing a delusion of grandeur.  If the truth is something different than this, I would like to know it someday, should Truth find me worthy of its knowing. I do know this, though:The number of truths that touch us are as infinite as the souls multiplied their many realizations, knowings, or learnings. There is no end to this massive, masturbatory orgy of life.

Don't stop. But every now and then, bow to what waits for you. There is no formula for success, other than to be re-born in every moment or opportunity where love calls you in. Whether your heart is warmed or frozen, just stfu and listen sometimes.

So to re-write this excerpt in an acceptably apropos language to love and life, I offer this:

Let me take from you everything I want
Oh, let me Give you everything you think you need
For my Love surely gives
As it has been given, to me

#newversion  #wordsgonewild  #bewithme

Oh you sad, sad fool:
Love is undeniably, your anchored rule
But you smirk that sly, wise smile
for you know what cannot be denied...

And I, I bow in silence.

Not this time

Just when I thought
I had handles on this
I could soften my guard behind false confidence

Just when I felt
Humble pie, insipid
Exempt from this blind-side and firmly in its grip
Cause I am seduced by obsessions, and under the influence
I'm slipping again
I'm up to old tricks off my wagon
I have no defense I'm
Wreaking havoc
                          and consequence

I get reduced by my own willfulness as
I reach for my usual Love! replacements
Cause I am rich with sanction and lax in my steps

I'm unworthy again
I'm up to old tricks off my wagon
I have no defense I'm
Wreaking havoc

I'm wreaking havoc and consequence

If forgiveness is understanding
Then I offer mea culpa for the millionth time
From this tumbling house of cards of mine

I am beaten by my impulsiveness
By this uncanny foreshadowing of regret
Cause I'm repulsed by indifference. At least that's my excuse

I'm slipping again
I'm up to old tricks off my wagon
I have no defense I'm
Wreaking havoc and consequence

-My greatest teacher, A. Morissette
(Thank You!)

Actually,  you can teach an old dog new tricks. The dog just has to want to.  What's wrong with spots, anyway? At least they're real.

The sounds of silence

I cannot hear your words no more

ear's pressed against the earthen floor

Your thoughts no longer wear my face

my soul has won that measly race

my skin now pricked, releases the throng
of the toxic rights and righteous wrongs
now snorting the light and huffing on love
for of these my heart can't get enough

I met a friend tonight...

Don't you kiss me too quickly.

Let me linger in this longing
long enough to know
just how hungry I am
for one endless kiss from you.

Don't you dare.

#ihopethatsnotatraincomingatme

Is this the white light of knowing
or is this the sun, now rising?

Were you the one who sleighted me
or the one who kept me going

(all tied up in your sexy dreams of sweet things and yummy whispers)

Food for thought

More and more posts are popping up, as experience has taught me to expect so, about boycotting businesses that are open on Thanksgiving Day. But didn't I see you at the convenient store or Stater Bros last Christmas morning? Did you watch football on Thanksgiving? It's a Wonderful Life on Christmas? Those athletes are working hard as are the cameramen, refs, concessions and security personnel, producers, and a multitude more which I have not imagined. Doctors, firemen and police officers, janitors in hospitals and help in the jails: All necessities for which we conveniently pivot away from our former convictions. 

Some people don't celebrate the holidays the way you do, or they adjust their schedules to celebrate. Remember how the original feast was three days long? Was it even on a Thursday? (I don't know.) Was Jesus actually born in December? I'm pretty sure he wasn't. We have conveniently customized sacred events to be what and when we want them to be.  So what's wrong with others doing the same?  If we had remained true to the actual feast d'facade, deciding that its observation should be three whole days, we'd have to wait til Sunday to do our Black Friday shopping. How poignant would Elvis have been singing about having a Green Christmas Without You? What if we couldn't dream of a white Christmas, and had to dream of a green one, instead?

I used to sometimes really enjoy working on holidays and I'm happy for my youngest son when he has to work inconvenient Mother's Day shifts, or til very late on Christmas Eve, a he inherited my love of dashing madly through the bustles of busy-ness while polishing his art of service. He respects and honors what he is giving to people, and takes great pride in the joy that they receive even though many of them never realize the depth of his sincerity.

We have chosen and assigned what and how we celebrate. Whether that meaning is religious, financial or familial, it IS the reason for whomever holds it. If I customize anything as I see fit, and expect everyone else to fall in between the lines of my convenient rigidity, I'm robbing you of your right for your own meaningful choice. I'm not sure why we worry so much about what others choose, anyway, since we will never fathom the depth of another's need or the actuality of their heart. But that's a topic for a whole new ranting. 

When you call your loved ones and friends this holiday season, be thankful that you can. But also whisper a thanks to the person who's keeping that phone line working. Be grateful when you turn your oven on, for those who are keeping it on. (You're probably cooking, I'm guessing.) Will you drive to be with loved ones? You might need gas.  What if you crash your car going to visit granny, will you wait until tomorrow for a tow truck? I truly pray you won't need an EMT, as well. But they will be there, giving you their best when you are not equipped to even think about them. (Thank you!)

However it is that you will celebrate these holidays, please know that I hope you are fortunate enough to both give and receive love, regardless of the date, time, venue or tradition. And if you decide to attend or watch a football game or shop at Wal-Mart, I think you CAN give thanks- out loud and openly, or quietly mumbling to every cashier, attendant, utility worker or yourself for providing a time and place for everything we mean to enjoy.

"It's in the giving, that we receive."

:(

hold my heart tonight

keep it safe from all the sounds
of loneliness and fear
and of things I cannot dream
hold me close tonight

be the soothing balm that
heals me be the easy slip that
frees me from me                                       
hold my heart tonight

reach your strong hand toward mine
sit beside me in the dimming light
be my brightness, be my guide
please, hold me through the endless night

and closer through the thickening dark
while I cherish the light and kindness
beating through your soul, as mine
hold my heart

it's so cold out here, tonight

Questionable

If we seek anything other than truth
what are we seeking?

What are we defending in
the absence of actuality?

What do you believe in?
Why?

The corner of Hell & Main

My life, my love
the pits and the flowers
rainbows and showers
Will dawn break open the darkest night?

Can you come over, love
from that place in your dream
where you are neither there nor here, but
asleep in daylight and slumber?

Drownin in U

Set me free!

Can you really be with me?

Pour your soul 

into my hands?

Your heart

into my river?

Waters' colors

along the black and jagged edges of my past
seen through the ecstasy of your pain
your beautiful eyes graze toward
each shiny little patch in the middle,
like the glisten in a drop of rain or
the thinnest little seed of light,
the very first glimpse that awakens the dawn---
always falling from your eyes, yet again
to dilute these lines, stretching
colors all across my forms

what do you see in me?

Cunning linguist

Thank you for seeing me,
thank you for being me,
We are life's divinity
when you dissolve into me,
thankfully

blow me away, again

Love from a friend:Thank you for seeing me, being me.

She whispered into my ear
as she held me so closely,
"Your love is beyond compare."
"Thank you," I said,
"for knowing this heart
so freely."


Even in a darkened dawn, your light shines so brightly.

#2brokengirlslol

The wayward ones

If we all have different ideas of what is "okay" then we must all be okay. Except, perhaps, for those who do as all of the others do, cuz they're just following someone else's dreams. That's kinda not okay. But that's just my dream. Carry on!

Dear Sweet Man,

I need to be
where
"we" won't be
broken
in each other's dreams

"Life is a lot like an answering machine..you only have so much time to leave your message."

As I frantically clamber to find mine...
We never know how much "life" is left, and the more time that we spend worrying about whether we're wrong or right is time wasted as we choke off the beauty of being. So while I burn up these fleshy remains, let that fuel be in the honor and reverence of all that I encounter. "Life" is not this flesh, it is this beauty of being love by always doing or being, our best.

May we live with the fury of the burning, dying sun.

What's the point of living if you're not living as if you were dying? 

WAKE UP!

#callme

What do you think?

I
am no more important than you.

Your
children are just as wonderful as mine.

Oh
your pain is lovely on you.

We
are lighting each other's ways.

How you love yourself is how you love the world.

h.dumpty

Is it
only the broken heart
that knows truly,
the depth of Love?

Oh wait, maybe I meant broken open...

Sexy
is baring your soul, not your body.

Blowin it

Each
is just another moment
preparing you for the next

Don't
waste this one on that
which does not feed your soul

Be with it

perfection

We were all born someone's dream of love and perfection.
Some of us broke quickly
some wear that weight down

Some come back

Some need a little help out

Triple Time

Feel the something beautiful
lick it til it's raw with desire
ready to conquer anything.

This is winning.
But it's not for the win. No, never a need.
Being with your biggest love, only as it is.

You are beautiful.
One sentence, word, a single sound
we cross the sensed boundaries, into the laurels of youth again.

Undenied.
Unfettered.
Ecstatically alive...


"Hey, he said, 'Grab your things, I've come to take you home'."

(My heart went boom, boom, boom)

idkwtct

Let it wreck you

until you don't care to fight it,

anymore

You get used to it

then it doesn't hurt so much,

anymore 

You learn to feel

in spite of what it will take from you,

nevermore

the other side of life

no longer from the rusted laurels of my squandered youth
do i seek to hide amidst the withering leaves.
does youth end when death shows you its soul,
or is that just the way it rises, to finally begin?

New men

Love me, and let me love you.

We’ll come and go, but

Linger long and longingly, when we do,

Unabashedly bowing to the light of me,………you,……….we.

I say “me” first for you and me, the we, are me and

you know that. With you I am free to start

My sentences with “I” because you always know

Just what we mean.

Thank you.

Thank you for seeing the love in every heart,

Light in every star,

Every one of my heart’s beats within the pounding of your own.

(Here I sleep peacefully, knowing your love cannot mame.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.)

I need someone to help diffuse this overload

Of love and light

Before I swell so big I burst,

Or fizzle into etheric bliss

Come love me, and let me love you.

You should love me and let me love you. Y'know...if you want to. I'll be hoping you do. I think you want me to.

What is god? I don't know, but I suspect it is a collective wonder of every heart.  Maybe we are god when we learn to be love in spite of this flesh and most certainly, because of it. We bow to this numen, this choice to live in love.

Preguntas?

What if I knew that TRULY loving myself
means
that I truly love ALL of the world
and
honor EACH and every one of them
with
KNOWING that they too, are love?

The root of all Ego

What is it about anniversaries of grief-inducing events; freeing us with every hard swallow, into the glorious healing hands of acceptance?

At first it might be minutes since, 
but then hours, days, weeks, 
months, seconds, milliseconds, years
cause pain eternal in every single moment

Wait. What were you wearing?
I don't think I said good bye.

Wait- I need to know now so that
I can remember you (as if I had
taken the time to be with you-
the way you always asked me to,)
and imagine you just as you were
when you walked through the gateway, so Glorious.

What if you go to heaven and I go to hell?
Would you write and tell me 
what it's like down there? 

What if we switched places,
this time knowing
always knowing what it is to love?

It doesn't matter anymore, I know.
But I know, now, how much you mattered
and that you wore your long red dress
which dripped your blood in a circle around my feet.

(I'm so sorry 
I never saw 
you bleeding)

I smeared my finger through the puddle
and wrote your name across the sky
For You are why I love...

something else

We are what we are
every ill and in spite of

We come in pieces
to make peace in this soul

We will become
every bit of each other

When we learn to let it grow

Something

It's all just
water
under the bridge, now
Water,
it has got
to flow
Or else
it ripens
stagnant sludge

let it go
let it flow
we got this

Med.itate

Lay on me your heavy
let me bathe in its newness
its ripeness and its fullness
let it lift me up
and make me something
more than I had thought
to ever think to be


breathe it in...

Mr. Write

I never run out of words.
Well, sometimes I guess, it would seem that I do
when I go on in silence for days
The thing is that in these times the
noise is deafening in my conscious and aware
element of self; so
I have no wherewithanything
to utter a sound from my mesmerized mouth
Until my heart asks of what I dream
through the nights and days
It answered, it was the kiss that enchanted both my
body and soul with just one touch of love's lips to mine
I'll wait in quiet for I cannot shout his name;
for Love,
the true god,
simply cannot be tamed with words

Free falling

You are so beautiful
beyond your plump lips
and sumptuous wit
Radiance shining
wider than that brightest smile
brilliance unleashed
Unaware of the crowd
thinking this or that, so foolishly proud
cuz you, You live in love, every time you laugh, or cry out loud

Like raindrops quenching my withering tongue
in the midst of the late afternoon's desert rain,
Where earth and water  become one and the same
Every time You fall, I will rise to be with you

It's a beautiful morning

In the middle of morning’s fog

Shined night’s light on the darkened pond

     beauty only, pierces  the silence

This spray of may, come what might

May not be what we hoped to like

       L i s t e n . . .
     only darkness becomes the morning

Rest, it's peaceful

Some raindrops fall lightly
even in the midst of a storm

Paint the thunder and
brand the lightning

Be a monsoon until
each tear drop falls as it will

Aqua aura

 Wish I may, wish I might...

Let not my heart be weighted

Nor my love be blind or shaded

If my light be sadly faded

When love comes once again, fated,

Knocking at my door

May two fiery souls’ union

Come to me none too soon then

With a blessed and warm reunion

Of one soul's unabashed communion,

OH, LOVE! I hear you calling me

Welcome to this world

Nothing.

Nothing is perfect.
Yet everything is beautiful
in a different angle,
another time,
shining in a light or
hiding in its darkness.

We are.

Everything.
There is no you or we or me
in this thing or that place;
we have all been there and here,
loved and hated this, for all
of eternity's measures.

It is all.
Part and parcel of
each molecule of air we breathe
which has been born and breathed before
by angels and demons, one and all...
We are just stardust of collective light


Which shall
be breathed again and again
as we sail through the
darkened channels,
quickened by one
endless stream of love

The new moon

Last night I asked the angels

to show my love to me

to bring me to his splendor

awakened in my dream

Perched on the edge of a thick white cloud

I spread my wings and while calling out

you heard my song and then you came

and we danced across the sky

til

Morning's glory gently woke me

from my soft, green grassy nest

but she dared not take from me,

you, my greatest awakening

So I walked the path while the whispered

pleas wafted to me from the trees

The words, unclear, I could not hear

yet I knew they spoke of you, my dear

 then

 I ran through the streets

of this big, scary city

searching for you

in every nook and cranny

Scanning the faces of

each one in the masses and

Holding my breath til

each soul by me, passed

now

 I wait tired in the light

on the corner in the night

Oh angels, hear my prayer

One more time- please take me there